


Burning Bright Right Till the End

by Mia_Zeklos



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Development, Character Study, Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8029921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/pseuds/Mia_Zeklos
Summary: "When it had first occurred to Jonathan that he might want a parabatai one day, he’d only read about it in books."





	Burning Bright Right Till the End

**Author's Note:**

> Several things:  
> 1.I know I've warned about it in the tags, but I still feel that some parts can get rather disturbing. If you'd rather skip that, just skim wherever Jace thinks about/interacts with his father.  
> 2.The parabatai lore and the story about Jonathan and David is mostly taken from the Shadowhunter codex; otherwise, I've followed book canon only in letting Maryse give Jace his nickname.  
> That said, I'd love to know what you think about this fic, so feel free to let me know!

When it had first occurred to Jonathan that he might want a parabatai one day, he’d only read about it in books.

There wasn’t much information for him elsewhere. His father rarely talked about his own parabatai and Jonathan suspected that things had ended badly between them, probably because their bond had been forcibly severed. But he’d read all the stories; he’d read about Jonathan Shadowhunter and his David – the first parabatai pair, blessed by the Angel himself – and had asked himself more than once what it would be like to have a bond like the one they’d had – a bond without the scars and the pain.

But the scars were everywhere; even on his father, even if he didn’t want them to show. They were visible even on Robert Lightwood – the man who’d come to pick him up from Idris after his father’s death.

Robert Lightwood was an unusual man. In retrospect, Jace would later think that everyone had seemed unusual back then – he’d met very few people in his life at that point. Still, he knew he’d always remember the moment he’d seen Robert’s face in a sea of people that didn’t know what to offer to a newly-orphaned Shadowhunter boy other than an awkward reassurance and perhaps a hug. He remembered thinking, _this man had half of my father’s soul once_ and he’d been both relieved and terrified to meet him.

The same seemed to apply to the man himself. As soon as he neared Jonathan enough to take a good look at him, he said, “You must be Michael’s son? You don’t look much like him,” he added as an afterthought.

“Everyone says that,” Jonathan shrugged, fervently hoping that didn’t lower the chances of the man taking responsibility for his situation. “Are you going to take me away? They keep saying that _someone_ has to.”

“Yes,” the man confirmed, glaring at the Consul who was fiddling with the edge of his robes and refused to look the newcomer in the eye. Jonathan wished he could break the tension and say that it was fine – it wasn’t the Consul’s fault that he didn’t know what to do with him – but he was secretly grateful that someone was trying to defend him from potential harm. “Yes, Jonathan, I’ll take you with me. I’m Robert Lightwood. Does that ring a bell?”

“You were Father’s parabatai,” Jonathan answered promptly. “You live in New York. Is that where we’re going?”

“Yes. Do you have any luggage?” Jonathan pointed at his suitcase. “Good. Let’s go.”

Jonathan decided that he liked Robert. He was straightforward and honest and tried to make everything as simple as possible for him, which was a welcome relief. As they made their way to the portal, Jonathan tried to get as much information out of him as possible and got lucky there too. Robert had three kids – two boys and a girl – and a wife named Maryse. His older son was a year older than Jonathan, the girl – a year younger, and the other boy – Max – was still a baby. The Lightwood family was in control of the New York Institute and Jonathan was going to join them now; he’d have a room of his own and train with Robert’s son and adjust to life in the city.

The world that welcomed him at the other end of the portal wasn’t like anything he’d expected. Later on, he would gradually get used to it, once the initial fuss had settled, but his first taste of life in the Institute wasn’t like anything he’d expected.

The first thing he saw after stepping through the back nothingness between the worlds was a girl staring down at him.

“Hello,” she said and offered him a hand. Jonathan took it and stood up, but she went on speaking before he could answer. “I’m Izzy. I heard you’re coming from Idris. What’s it like there? I’m not allowed to go.”

“Leave him _alone_ , Isabelle,” someone else interfered and a boy – her brother, Jonathan presumed – came into view. “He’s only just arrived.”

They were perfect copies of one another – the same dark eyes and hair, and carefully guarded expressions that hid a decent amount of curiosity.

 “Hello,” Jonathan said, unsure which one of them he was supposed to look at. “I’m Jonathan Christopher.”

“Hello, Jonathan!” The speaker was a woman this time, but the relation to the boy and the girl was still obvious. “I’m Maryse. That’s quite a long name. What did your father call you?”

“Jonathan,” he said, mystified. Was there a ritual to this that he hadn’t been told about?

“Jonathan Christopher,” Maryse repeated, clearly lost in thought. “How would you like Jace for a nickname?”

“It sounds great,” Jonathan said. He’d call himself anything if that meant never having to go back to the clueless, aimless wandering around Idris he had endured for almost two week now.

“Well, Jace,” Robert said with a smile as warm as it was tentative, “welcome to your new home.”

**o.O.o**

Jace spent the majority of his first week at the Institute in Robert's office. The man had offered to help with anything Jace could possibly need and had taken up the responsibility of filling him in about anything Jace wanted to know about the mundane world. Sometimes he asked about Michael and Jace always tried to pick all the good stories; the kind of stores that someone would like to hear about their parabatai. He tried to include as many details as possible but nothing he said ever seemed to hit home; Robert was always asking more questions as if he thought that the answers would start sounding more like the Michael he’d known.

It was in one of those evenings that there was a knock on the door of Robert’s office, quickly followed by Alec slipping into the room.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said, his hand still hovering over the door handle, “but Hodge scheduled us a training tonight and it starts in fifteen minutes.”

“Of course,” Robert nodded. “Go, Jace; he might want to talk about choosing your weapons of choice already.”

Jace said his goodbyes and followed Alec out of the room and into the hallway outside. The shades were always drawn over the windows in Robert’s office and he was surprised by how dark it was outside already.

“I didn’t know we had training tonight,” he said, increasingly confused when Alec headed for the living quarters rather than the training area.

“That’s because we don’t have one,” Alec stopped so abruptly that Jace almost ran into him. “I’m sorry about Father,” he said in a voice far too official for his age. It took Jace off guard for a second; all the children in the Institute were just that – _children_ – but Alec acted like he’d been given all responsibility for his family. “He misses his parabatai a lot, but he shouldn’t ask you about all these things. It must be painful.”

“Sometimes,” Jace admitted, “but more often, I don’t understand why he’d care. What does it matter? He’s dead anyway.”

Alec looked scandalised and more than ready to protest, but he glanced at his clock and sighed. “Never mind that,” he said reluctantly, “I’ll tell him to stop. I have to go now. I have a history lesson to attend and he’ll know if I miss it and get mad.”

“What would he do then?” Jace asked, tensing without really meaning to. Alec didn’t look too worried, but then again, Alec never did.

“He’ll be disappointed,” Alec said with a grimace. “And then I’ll miss _another_ lesson while he gives me a speech about responsibility.”

It took Jace a moment to realise that disappointment would be the aftermath, not the cause of a different punishment. “He wouldn’t...” he started, not sure how to finish, but Alec misunderstood.

“He would,” he said. “He knows how much I hate history so he always makes sure I attend these lessons.”

 _Of course he wouldn’t,_ Jace realised. A man like Robert would never educate his children the way his father had. But the question still stood: how had a man like Robert ended up bonding himself to Michael Wayland in the first place?

“Can I come with you?” Jace asked on impulse and saw Alec hesitate.

“Jonathan, I don’t think-” he trailed off.

“It’s Jace,” Jace corrected him. “That’s the name your mother gave me, remember?”

“You don’t have to use it if you don’t like it,” Alec said, “You know that, right?”

Yes. No. Jace wasn’t sure, but he was sure about the name. “I do,” he said, “But I like it. So, can I come?”

“It’s boring,” Alec said. “Are you sure?” Jace nodded and Alec allowed himself a small smile; the first Jace had seen from him. “Okay then, _Jace_ , follow me.”

**o.O.o**

Alec’s lessons really were tedious, but Jace survived through them somehow. He soon realised that the Lightwood children were as lonely as they were popular and the reason behind that was clear – despite their age, they were already being prepared for future positions far beyond their current knowledge. Alec was being trained for Head of the Institute and he was always separate from everyone else. Jace didn’t know why – or when – he decided to tag along, but no one had stopped him, so he saw no reason not to.

Or, well, not until Maryse presented him with one.

“Alec’s position is going to be a responsible one,” she told him one day. “He doesn’t have the time to train with the others or to spend time with them, but you do, and you should.”

“I like it with Alec,” Jace protested. Maryse had taken the role of his mother very seriously and he was pleased about it despite never mentioning it, but the fact still stood: she’d known him for less than a year. “I can keep up.”

“It’s not about keeping up,” Maryse said, clearly trying to be delicate. “There’s more to the Institute than Alec and Isabelle. Why don’t you try to get to know the others as well?”

But the Institute was just like New York itself – too loud and too full of people and unlike everything Jace had been used to for years. He preferred it in the Institute’s library where it was just him and Hodge and Alec and hundreds of books, and he told Maryse as much.

“What about a parabatai?” she asked. “Don’t you want to find one?”

She must have known that he did if she had brought it up.

“If I want one,” Jace said, “I’m just going to ask Alec.”

**o.O.o**

He’d said it as a means of diversion back then, but the idea had stuck. Jace thought of that whenever he saw Alec and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

It was always so quiet during their lessons that Jace almost forgot he wasn’t home. The light was coming through the stained glass of the high library windows and dancing over Alec’s hair as he focused on his history book and Jace found himself pondering it again. There would be no harm in asking, and why would Alec say no? The parabatai bond had to be one of a kind. There was supposed to be only one person out there who could be a perfect fit for that role; there could be many loves, Jace had read in the books, but only one parabatai.

He ended up asking Hodge about it – as far as Jace knew, Hodge was the only person who could actually claim to really know Alec. “It would be better to wait,” Hodge had told him, “Alec would take that very seriously, so don’t bring it up unless you’re absolutely sure.”

“It’s a very special bond,” Alec said when Jace had mentioned it once; he _was_ sure, no matter what Hodge thought. “Do you have someone in mind?”

“Sort of,” Jace evaded. “But I’m not sure if they’d say yes.”

“I see.” There was a smile budding on Alec’s lips; a rare occurrence during history lessons. Jace felt something inside him flutter. He was going to say yes, he was sure of it, and he held his breath for a moment. “Well, you just have to ask.”

“You think so?” Jace asked hopefully. Despite what Hodge had said, he’d _known_ that Alec would think they knew each other well enough.

“Sure,” Alec shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she won’t say _no_. She’s always looked up to you.”

Jace’s mind went blank. “She,” he parroted, unsure if he’d made it sound like a question, but Alec understood.

“Izzy,” he clarified as if he wasn’t quite sure anymore. “That’s- You want her to be your parabatai, right? You don’t need to ask me,” he continued. “She’s already old enough to make those decisions on her own.”

“That’s- not what I wanted,” Jace said as Alec went back to the test Hodge had given him, and he meant it in more ways than one. This wasn’t going according to plan. “I wanted to ask you.”

“I told you, you don’t need-” Alec’s voice died and he looked up, forgetting about the test altogether. “Me.”

“You,” Jace confirmed, feeling just a bit surreal. He’d planned to ask Alec outright; to prepare him for the conversation so that he would be able to think it through. Here, on the suddenly too small desk with Alec staring at him in confusion, was not exactly his dream location for this purpose.

“This is a very important decision,” Alec uttered at last, still bewildered.

“It is,” Jace agreed. It was, and it was better to appear serious about it.

“Give me until this time tomorrow,” Alec said after another few seconds of contemplation. “I need to think it through.”

Tomorrow came, and with it even more anxiety. Jace knew that Alec wasn’t drawing things out to be cruel; he just thought _everything_ through. And this decision – the one decision that would last him a lifetime – was the most important one in his life.

Hodge left them early, frustrated with their inability to concentrate. Alec fidgeted with his pen while the man gathered his books and as soon as Hodge was out of the door, he turned to Jace. “Yes,” he said, gasping the word out as if it had been burning his tongue, aching to get out. “I’ll be your parabatai, Jace.”

Without giving it even a second’s thought, Jace threw his arms around Alec to bring him closer and press them tight together. _I knew it,_ he wanted to say, victorious, _I knew you wouldn’t let me down_. But instead, he just said, “Thank you.”

Alec stood frozen for a second and then Jace felt arms wrap around him, careful and warm and unsure. It was nice to be hugged, Jace decided; he felt safer than he had in a while, probably safer than he ever had.

“No,” said Alec and his voice was heavy with a thousand unspoken words. “Thank _you_."

**o.O.o**

After that, Jace’s life improved significantly. By the same evening, they’d told everyone the news and Robert had been ecstatic. He’d send a message to Idris as soon as he’d been able to and within the month, Alec and Jace were allowed to use the portal to perform their ceremony. Alec had been just a baby when his parents had been exiled from their homeland, so he’d never visited the home he’d been born in. They’d spent the weekend in the Lightwood Manor, barely able to take their eyes away from their new runes as they went to sleep.

It was exactly like Jace had imagined it. The parabatai bond was the most intimate and yet the most unobtrusive thing he’d ever felt. It pulsed under his skin like a second heart; like his soul had moved a little to the side to make place for Alec’s and it was fascinating in ways Jace had never thought of.

This was what he’d read about in the legends about Jonathan and David; _this_ was the bond he’d been expecting. He couldn’t stop thinking about it – during training and breakfast and during all the mundane activities his day usually contained, there was something more, something new that stood at the back of his mind and constantly reassured him with its mere presence. He’d always read about two souls connected into one, but he’d never thought that the process would be so _seamless_. He only had to think of Alec’s name and he could think his current state – both mental and physical – into existence and analyse them however he liked. During training – they weren’t allowed to go on actual hunts yet – they could guess each other’s next move before it had happened and it made them formidable partners in almost any situation.

 _I would die for you,_ he’d told Alec after their first official hunt. The street they had been in had been dark and dimly lit and rain had been pouring over them and as Jace had blinked water out of his eyes, he’d seen _something_ flash in Alec’s; like electricity running straight through their bond. Jace had never felt anything like it before and the signals coming off from Alec had been a mess and he’d felt alarmed for a moment. _I would_ , he’d insisted and had barely heard Alec’s answering _Me too_ over the noise of the city and the storm. But he’d seemed shaken; not something Jace had expected. It was supposed to be this way, wasn’t it? Alec had said it himself; it was a very special bond.

But, _Let’s go home_ , Alec had said after that, and he’d barely spoken for the rest of the night.

Months melted into years and by the time Alec nearly was ready to take over as fully functioning Head of the Institute, their bond had grown stronger than ever. Izzy had joked more than once that for people who were so fundamentally different, they were basically the same person.

And then Clary came along.

Alec couldn’t possibly understand what she was going through; Jace wasn’t about to blame him for that. For as long as he could remember, Alec had had his parents and his sister and they’d always been there for him; even when he’d found them annoying and abrasive, they’d still been there. He couldn’t know what it was like to be alone and Jace didn’t expect him to. Still, he’d expected just an ounce of tolerance and their fight had put them both on edge to the point where Jace could feel that the idea of summoning the memory demon just now wouldn’t be a good idea at all.

The whole ritual had been doomed before it had even started. Clary had been desperate to take her memories back and demons always feasted on that, Alec was distracted and only Raziel could tell what he was thinking about and it was clear that neither Isabelle nor Magnus were inclined to take the entire thing seriously. And when he’d seen Alec’s horrified expression – even before he’d seen himself in the smoke – Jace had known what would happen and that no warnings could stop it. Everything after that had been a whirlwind of absolute chaos; once they’d lost control of the demon, Alec had immediately made a move against it and the only thing Jace could think of was that he was going to _die_ , because the only thing Alec ever ran away from was himself, even if that meant taking his chances against a demon unarmed right after.

So he’d done the only thing he had the time for – he found enough strength to push Alec away, but he’d underestimated just how difficult it would be to pull back after that. The demon, stronger by the second, dragged him in and after that there was nothing but darkness.

**o.O.o**

_Jace, get up._ There was someone calling his name, Jace registered slowly; someone he should have recognised. But they were so far away and it was so much easier not to open his eyes. _Get up, **Jace**._

 _Please. I’m sorry._ The words were startling in Jace’s head, clearer than he’d ever imagined they could be. It must have been because he’d almost been pulled back into the demon’s origin dimension, he thought hazily; it must have thinned the walls between him and Alec too.

Alec. Now that the person calling him had a name, it was much easier to pull himself out of the half-dream he was floating into and back into the world.

He put himself back together, eventually, but he still couldn’t understand _why_. It was one thing for Alec to try and keep his emotions in check – sometimes Jace thought that he’d been programmed to do it – so what about Jace’s face coming up had managed to scare him so thoroughly?

His reluctance to talk about it only made everything all the more confusing. Of _course_ it had been him; that was a given, wasn’t it? He’d told Alec that much but that had only made things worse somehow. Jace could feel the unease pouring off of him until he was just about unable to bear it.

And then, day by day, it got more perplexing and clearer at the same time.

Despite not being there all the time – the aftermath of Simon’s transformation was a messy enough one to keep him occupied for a while – Jace still knew that he was the first one to sense how bad things were getting and his suspicions were only proved once he came home for long enough to meet Lydia.

One of the first things Jace had learnt about Alec was that he was very careful when making important decisions. He always tried to synchronise them with everyone else who could possibly affected; sometimes even with people who _wouldn’t_ be affected, to the point where both Jace and Izzy had started rolling their eyes every time he actually tried to authorise a mission instead of just going ahead with it.

Which made an engagement with a girl he’d barely just met all the stranger, especially given the fact that his parents weren’t home. No one was there to stop him and apparently now, that was enough permission for him. His parents’s betrayal had been the turning point and there was no one he trusted now and it felt like a slap to the face when Jace realised that ‘no one’ included _him_ now. He’d always been the exception to Alec’s rules; the _but_ that didn’t exist for anyone else. And to see Alec talk about his marriage now as if he was making an official statement was the last straw and Jace realised that they were both completely alone now.

The Institute was a disaster. The Lightwoods’s tight leash over it was starting to loosen to the point where the Clave had actually sent someone to deal with the situation and Alec had taken Lydia’s lead; without even saying anything – or _needing_ to – he’d made her co-head of the Institute and she was the only person he’d listened to ever since she’d arrived.

Well, with one little exception, if Isabelle was to be trusted.

Alec had told her something in passing about Magnus and how he’d told him to follow his heart. Jace was quite sure that the Warlock hadn’t meant this, but it was still telling that Alec had taken heed of his words. _We don’t have a choice_ , Jace had told him when he’d arrived, but what he’d really meant was, _You’re our only hope_. If he’d wanted to help Alec then he would know that he was beyond any help but direct interfering. He hoped that if Alec learnt about this one day, he would understand.

He didn’t.

Their fight right in front of the City of Bones – it was _blasphemy_ to spill blood there, where they’d first been welcomed into the Shadow World as newborns, and Jace felt as if the irony of that could burn him – fitted perfectly with everything else that had happened. Jace had wanted to explain; to tell Alec that he _knew_ and that it was fine, that he didn’t need to do all that he’d done to prove himself, but there was no one to listen. Talking to Alec was like talking to a brick wall – the only thing he wanted was to get everything back to normal and Jace knew that he couldn’t save him from himself. He might have managed it once – he’d seen Alec hopeless and devastated and he’d helped him through it, but he’d never seen him _desperate_ , and there was nothing that he could do to help him now.

Jace’s world shifted again and this time, there was no one to help him through it, either.

He’d seen his father again and the sight of him had made him forget to breathe, and he hadn’t managed to start doing it properly again whenever he thought about him. Michael had helped him take care of his wound and had called for Luke’s help and later, when he started questioning him about Clary and Alec, he felt almost _guilty_ for being defensive. His father had taken care of him; he’d helped him train so that he could recover and yet his first thought during what had nearly turned into an interrogation was, _Don’t take them away from me. Take anything you want, but not this. Not them._ He’d hid Clary from Michael as much as he’d been able to, just as he’d tried to shield his parabatai rune from his view. Things had changed and his father wasn’t the only person in his world anymore, but the fact that there were others made him feel ashamed enough to want to drop the topic whenever his father tried to start it.

And then, when he saw his father kneel on the ground in front of him and rise again as Valentine, that should have explained so many things, but it didn’t. _It didn’t_. The only thing it did was _change_ things and destroy everything Jace had built for ten years. He’d gone from Jace Wayland, a respected member of the Clave ever since he’d turned eighteen, into _Valentine’s son_ and it was too late to control the damage.

But that was fine, Jace supposed; after all, he’d only spent a handful of days back in the Institute before being taken away again, his father dragging him by the wrist as he looked at the faces of the only people who mattered in the world. He was glad he’d had the time to speak to Alec again for long enough for them to be in sync again because it turned out that Clary wouldn’t be the only one who needed his protection. They were the only family he knew; they’d all need all the help that they could get.

 _Help_. It was all he could think about – the way they’d looked at him as he’d left through the portal, and it was still his first thought when he woke up now, days later. They’d all need help, and he must have said the word out loud because he felt a hand grip his chin and pull his face up. His father had come to wake him up.

“Where from?” Valentine asked quietly and Jace must have seemed confused, because he clarified, “you think you need help. Where will it come from, Jace, your friends? You’ll be pleased to know that the New York Institute is faring well in the war, even without you. Anyone coming to get you would be reckless, and besides, they wouldn’t waste their resources on a rescue mission for someone they can do without. But you,” his father continued, squeezing his hand briefly, “you can be useful here.”

“Yes,” Jace nodded, already thinking about the battle that could possibly take place on the ship in the future. His father could ask of him to agree, but he couldn’t force him to _listen._

Valentine had been right – Jace was useful when the time came, but perhaps not in the way his father had anticipated. He’d been wrong about something else, though; Jace’s welcome back had been nothing short of warm. When the battle had finally ended he’d been too exhausted to register much but the relief on the faces surrounding him. _You were wrong_ , he thought with a vicious sort of selfishness he’d never really experienced before. _I matter to them; I’ve always mattered. You were **wrong**_.

Even though everyone had been kind enough to let him get his rest, he knew perfectly well who would be the first one to break the unspoken rule that no one could enter his room and was completely unsurprised when he woke up to a pair of hazel eyes fixed blindly on his face.

“You didn’t need to stay up,” he said out of the necessity to say _something_ ; anything at all and squirmed in his place when Alec didn’t react. He wasn’t sure what to expect; all he’d seen of Alec last night was him shooting off demons with a speed that didn’t seem completely human and then his parabatai’s hand on his back as he’d practically pushed him through the portal. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he continued, voice even quieter than before. “I’m-”

“Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Jace’s voice died and he stared at Alec, stunned. He thought that this was the closest he’d ever seen him to tears; his eyes were glassy and his breathing was shallow and uneven. “Did you hear me?” he insisted with the same shudder in his words that made Jace want to reach out to him. He did; stretching his hand until his fingers could tangle with Alec’s. “Don’t _ever_ do anything like that again.”

“I told you before,” Jace said, and suddenly he was back in that disgusting, wet alley staring at an Alec whose eyes looked _decades_ lighter than they did now, even if only a few years had passed. “I would die for you. For _all_ of you, but- I trusted that _you_ would manage everything on your own, and you _did_. That’s what it’s about, right?” he pressed when he got no reaction. “I’m your parabatai, that means-”

“No, it _doesn’t_.” Alec burst out, letting go of Jace’s hand as if it had burnt him. “You’ve got it all wrong. You’ve had it all wrong for years, and I never said anything. I should have, but I didn’t.”

“Should have told me what?” Jace asked. He could feel that he was missing something but for once, he couldn’t read Alec’s face well enough to tell what it was.

“The parabatai bond,” Alec said. He looked smaller and more miserable than Jace had seen him in a while, and in their current circumstances, that was no small feat. Whatever he was going to say had been eating him inside for years; Jace could tell that much. “It’s one of a kind, that’s true, but it’s never meant to go this far. It’s– intense, but it shouldn’t be like _this_. Two parts of the same soul, yes, but still firmly separated.”

“That can’t be right,” Jace’s voice wavered, but he stood his ground. After all these years, Alec wanted to devalue this _now_? “Jonathan and David...”

“It’s just a story, Jace.” Alec sounded as defeated as he looked; shoulders hunched as if that could somehow make him disappear. “It’s nothing but a glorified legend. It’s not meant to be an example for you to follow, but it was the only one you had, and then you had me.” Alec took a deep breath and looked him in the eye for the first time since he’d entered the room. “I love you. You’ve known that for years, I know. When this whole mess started, I wasn’t sure you understood the way I love you, but I think you do now. Maybe you’ve always known, but it didn’t matter, because ours was the only bond you had as an example.” Alec shook his head. “And I knew that, and I knew that you deserved much better than me, but I never wanted to tell you that. This whole time I’ve been using you to make me feel better and you never caught on. You never caught on. I want you to hate me now, but I don’t think you’re even able to.”

“It’s comforting that you got _one_ thing right.”

The words were out of Jace’s mouth before he could stop them but he still took a strange amount of satisfaction in seeing Alec look up suddenly with naked shock written all over his face. “I could never hate you. You didn’t trick me into anything. Believe it or not,” Jace added with a smile he hadn’t quite expected, “you’re the first person I chose on my own.” He took Alec’s hand again and pulled them closer together to make his point. “And if I could do it all over again, I’d still choose you.”

“Don’t say that,” Alec said, but the protest barely had any weight. “No one deserves to go through that, let alone _twice_.”

“No,” Jace agreed. “I didn’t deserve it. None of us deserved it.” It was easier than he’d expected to say it and he said it again, just to taste it on his tongue. “I didn’t deserve this. And it might not have occurred to you, but what I said to you back then was true. I love you. I’ve loved you for years. Our _souls_ are connected, Alec, of course I felt the same, and God knows we both suffered for it. But if coming here and going through it again means that I’d still end up right here, right now, I’d still choose that.”

He accepted the hug when it came and didn’t even flinch when Alec’s arms wrapped all the way around him. This was _Alec_ , and Alec was the safest place in the world. “Angel help me,” he said and Jace felt the words breathed against his shoulder rather than heard them. “I would choose that too.”

“Then that’s all I need,” Jace said and finally, _finally_ , he could feel Alec’s soul next to his again, heart beating as steadily as his own.


End file.
